


Lift

by SummerDaze



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: All The Ships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Car sharing, Comedy, Fluff, Lol who are we kidding of course there will be, Office Party, SanSan Week, Shameless Smut, but especially Sansan, but will there be office sex, office politics, sansan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-05-21 19:08:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerDaze/pseuds/SummerDaze
Summary: Welcome to Lannister Enterprises where Cersei’s stolen all the money and spent it on gigolo’s, Tyrion’s had to sell the staff car park off to save everyone’s job and Sansa is being forced to car share on her commute to work with the office ogre.Margaery's there, with her spoon, causing trouble and Bronn’s there too, being all sexy and surly and Shae is the world’s worst PA.





	1. Chapter 1

**From** : Lannister, Tyrion  
**To** : All Staff - Lannister Enterprises  
**Subject** : Staff car park

Dear colleagues

As most of you will be aware of, thanks to the many recent articles in The King’s Landing Daily, Lannister Enterprises are suffering with with some cash flow problems at the moment, courtesy of ~~my light fingered sister~~ ex board members Cersei and Joffrey Lannister and their creative accounting practices.

As Acting Director it falls to me to make some unpopular decisions in a bid to plug the gaping hole in our finances. In order to compensate for the ~~money Cersei spent on shoes, holidays and gigolo’s~~ misplaced money and to reduce the immediate budgetary pressure I have liquidated many of Lannister Enterprises’ property assets, one of which being the main staff car park. The sale to a third party has gone through and so as of next Monday 18 June staff car parking capacity will be reduced from 800 spaces to just 160.

~~I know this will piss all of you off but be thankful it’s not your jobs that are being lost.~~

I understand this will impact all of our colleagues here at Lannister Enterprises and ask that during the immediate future you are patient with us while we explore the alternative staff travel options. Where possible I encourage you to use public transport in an effort to ease congestion on the remaining few spaces in the car park.

I’m also pleased to announce a new corporate car sharing policy whereby HR will buddy up staff who live close to each other with the intention of car pooling on the journey to and from work. A financial incentive will be awarded to those that participate in the scheme. To express an interest please contact Shae on TyrionLannisterPA@lannisterenterprises.ws

Yours,

Tyrion

 **Tyrion Lannister** | Acting Managing Director | Lannister Enterprises

\- - - - -

 **From** : Human Resources  
**To** : Stark, Sansa; Clegane, Sandor;  
**Subject** : Carpool Match

Hi Sansa, hi Sandor

I’m emailing you as you both expressed an interest in the new car sharing scheme and you live within a three mile radius of each other.

I will leave it to you to make contact with each other and agree arrangements for your journey into work on Monday. If for any reason your car sharing isn’t successful please let me know and I’ll see if there are any other suitable candidates for you.

Best of luck  
Margaery

 **Margaery Tyrell** | HR Rep - Employee Relations | Lannister Enterprises

\- - - - -

 **From** : Human Resources  
**To** : Stark, Sansa  
**Subject** : Sorry!!!!!!!!!

Oh sweetie! I’m so sorry, that man is such an ogre but he’s the only employee that lives anywhere near you!

Look, I’ve been saying you should move into the city anyway so we can go for cocktails and dancing after work but why don’t you move in with me for a few months while you look for somewhere? You can move all your stuff this weekend and we can go for cocktails at _the cutest_ little bar I found near the waterfront. And best of all, you won’t have to cram yourself into a car around that giant monster on Monday morning.

XOXO

\- - - - -

 **From** : Stark, Sansa  
**To** : Human Resources  
**Subject** : Re: Sorry!!!!!!!!!

You are such a drama queen, Marg.

\- - - -

 **From** : Stark, Sansa  
**To** : Clegane, Sandor  
**Subject** : Car Share Buddy

Hi Sandor!

I don’t know if you remember me? We had a workshop together when I first started at Lannister Enterprises last year. :) Anyway, I’m so pleased I got matched to someone I know :) it’s a long journey to be stuck in the car with a weirdo :)

So I live just outside of Kings Landing in Rosby. I’m guessing you live near there too or we wouldn’t have been matched. Let me know! I’m happy to drive, somehow I don’t imagine you being a morning person so if you want to get a few extra zzz’s while I drive that’s not a problem haha :D I usually leave at around 8.15am, does that work for you?

Looking forward to hearing back from you!

Sansa.  
:)

 **Sansa Stark** | Creative Marketing Executive | Lannister Enterprises

\- - - - -

 **From** : Blackwater, Bronn  
**To** : Clegane, Sandor  
**Subject** : ?

Dude, why are your growling at your screen? Has Olenna’s incompetence finally driven you to a mental breakdown?

\- - - - -

 **From** : Shae  
**To** : Lannister, Tyrion  
**Subject** : Re Staff car park

You really must start letting me manage your emails. I have had HUNDREDS of angry replies about your oh so clever and oh so hilarious email to ALL THE EMPLOYEES ON THE EMAIL SYSTEM!

If this carries on you can expect my resignation on your desk Monday morning. You can certainly forget about carpooling with me.

I will consider forgiveness in exchange for that pink diamond choker I sent you the photo of - I might even show you how good it looks on.

S

 **Shae** | Personal Assistant to Tyrion Lannister, Acting Managing Director |


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get some proper story here, but the emails will continue throughout. Thanks for the kudos and comments so far!

**From** : Clegane, Sandor  
 **To** : Lannister, Tyrion  
 **Subject** : Re Staff car park

This farcical scheme doesn’t apply to senior leadership, does it, Imp?

 **Sandor Clegane** | Strategic Operations Director | Lannister Enterprises

\- - - - -

 **From** : Blackwater, Bronn  
 **To** : Clegane, Sandor  
 **Subject** : ??

Seriously dude. What’s with all the growling? You’re distracting Pod.

\- - - - -

 **From** : Clegane, Sandor  
 **To** : Blackwater, Bronn  
 **Subject** : FW: Car Share Buddy

_Attached: Email from Stark, Sansa. Subject: Car Share Buddy_

Fuck’s sake. How many smiley faces can a person use in one email?

\- - - - -

 **From** : Blackwater, Bronn  
 **To** : Clegane, Sandor  
 **Subject** : FW: Car Share Buddy

Ah. The Stark chick strikes again. Who knows, maybe a few extra zzz’s will make you less of a grumpy bastard. ;)

\- - - - -

 **From** : Stark, Sansa  
 **To** : Payne, Podrick  
 **Subject** : Your Boss

Hey Pod :)

How are you? It’s been a few weeks since we last had lunch, we should schedule something in for next week :)

Anyways, I was just wondering if your boss was around today? It’s just that I’ve sent him an email and I’ve not had a response yet and I kind of need to hear back from him before I go home today.

Take care  
Sansa

\- - - - -

 **From** : Payne, Podrick  
 **To** : Stark, Sansa  
 **Subject** : Re Your Boss

Hi Sans

I’m great, how are you doing? Next Thursday for lunch would work. Will your sister be joining us again?

Sandor’s here today - he’s at his desk right now actually. You might be better giving him a call - he’s one of those that doesn’t really believe in email. You’ve got his number, right? It’s on the directory.

Pod.

 **Podrick Payne** | Data Analyst | Lannister Enterprises

\- - - - -

Fucking, bollocking hell.

The name Sansa Stark was flashing across the phone’s sleek display, taunting Sandor Clegane. The shrilling ringtone continued despite the glare he was throwing it, as if the icy power of his gaze alone was enough to freeze the ringing. In a lightening fast swoop, Sandor snatched up the handset and placed it against his ear. His voice was the crunch of gravel under foot as he answered. “Clegane.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, as the caller had been caught off guard. With an exaggerated sigh he continued, “Can I help you, Sansa?”

The use of her name snapped some sense into the bird brained caller and a nervous giggle met his ear.

“Hi Sandor, how are you?” The voice, which he knew belonged to the leggy redhead, answered.

“Fine.” He said, pointedly not asking the question in return. “How can I help you, Miss Stark?”

“Oh. Well,” she stuttered, falling over her words a little. “I know you’re such a busy man and you probably haven’t even had a chance to check them yet, but I sent you an email a few hours ago. About the car sharing scheme? We’ve been matched up - yay! - we both must live in the middle of nowhere. But anyway, I sent you an email, just checking whether you’re happy to car share with me on Monday? And if you are we just need to agree a time and a place to meet up.”

“Right.” He still hadn’t thought of a way out of this ridiculous car sharing thing and no believable excuses were magically working their way into his brain right now.

With another sigh he picked up his computer mouse and scrolled through his emails until he landed in her name in his inbox. Scanning the words - and blanching at the overuse of smiley faces and exclamation marks - he found the bit he was searching for.

“You live in Rosby, right?”

“Yes, that’s right!” He could imagine her punctuation the sentence with another exclamation mark and smiley face.

“It makes sense that you drive then. Skype me your mobile number and I’ll drop a pin once I’m home so you’ve got my exact location. It’s pretty remote. 8.15 is fine for me.”

“Great! I’ll see you Monday morning then.”

He rolled his eyes into the phone.

“I’ll bring coffee! Have a great weekend, Sandor!”

With more force than was necessary and without so much as a goodbye, Sandor hung up the phone.

Looking up, he caught Bronn’s eye. The smug smile plastered across his face resulted in a wave of anger to course through Sandor’s body. “Don’t start.” He warned, his voice a roll of thunder that caused Pod to flinch.

** ** ** ** **

At 8.10am on Monday morning Sansa Stark was stressed, nervous and over caffeinated. But above all else, she was lost.

Gazing at the small red dot on her phone, and the moving blue dot that indicated her location, she couldn’t understand why Sandor’s house wasn’t directly in front of her right now.

“Stupid, useless GPS.” She muttered under her breath, twisting around in her seat to see if the house was somehow behind her. Nope. Just trees. All around her, everything she could see was green; grass fields, trees. Nature. Definitely no houses. There was no way there was a house within a mile of her current location.

Yelling in frustration and yanking the car into reverse yet again, Sansa executed an exemplary three point turn, only to have to slam her breaks on when she became aware of a looming, dark figure in the road in front of her that was in danger on ending up under her front wheels. A noise of surprise slipped from her lips as she realised it had to be Sandor standing in the road as no other man she’d ever laid eyes on was quite so distinctly tall. Oh. Well perhaps her car would just bounce off his enormous, sculpted thighs then.

Rolling to a stop beside him Sansa pressed a button and her driver side window buzzed down. Beaming up at him with what she hoped was a warm, welcoming smile that did not waver, despite Sandor’s icy glare, Sansa gestured to the passenger side door.

“What the fuck is this?”

A line appeared between Sansa’s brows. “What do you mean?”

“This car. Is it a toy? I’m not going to fit inside.”

“Don’t be silly, Sandor, of course you will. Hop in.” She beamed a full watt smile.

She waited for the scowl to leave Sandor’s face, and eventually he made his way around the car to the passenger door, opened it up and gingerly peered inside to inspect it.

“There’s not time today because you’re late,” his tone was accusatory and not at all that of someone who should be thankful someone else was driving them into work. “But tomorrow we’re taking my car.” He shot her a scrutinising look. “And I’m driving.”

With a final, skeptical look at the interior, Sandor folded his body up and squeezed inside Sansa’s car. His shoulders were so broad they brushed her own and Sansa was immediately warmed from the heat radiating from his body. She definitely wouldn’t need the heating on in the winter with Sandor in her car. His arm grazed her side as he turned to lay his suit jacket across the back seat.

A quick glance at his legs however told her that he had been correct: the car that was luxuriously spacious for her looked like a clown car with Sandor inside it.

“You can, uh, move the seat back. To give yourself more leg room. The button is over here.” She explained, leaning across his body to point out the various levers.

Once he was as comfortable as he was going to get, Sansa belted herself back up and glanced over at Sandor who had made no move to put on his seat belt.

“Click every trip!” She sang, looking at him until he rolled his eyes and sharply pulled the seatbelt across his body, raising his eyebrows at her once his click was heard.

Sansa beamed. “Great!” Straightening herself back up, she checked her mirrors and pulled away from the kerb. “I bought you some coffee.” She gestured to the two cup holders, nestled into the tiny gap between their seats. “I didn’t know what you drink so I got one black and one with milk. I drink both so I’ll just have whichever one you don’t want.”

Sandor nodded.

“It’s a Nissan Leaf.”

“What is?”

“This car - you asked what it is - it’s a Nissan Leaf.”

“Looks more like a Barbiemobile to me.”

Sansa smiled. “The paint colour? My brother Robb done that for me, as a birthday present.”

A grunt was the only response Sandor was willing to give to that. A few moments later Sansa watched, mouth agape, as Sandor reached across and turned the radio down. Sansa frowned, reached over and immediately turned it back up. Loud pop music during her commute to work was a morning ritual for Sansa. It pumped her up for the day, and, if Sandor hadn’t been in her car, she would be singing along at top volume as she whizzed down the highway.

Sandor’s hand was as quick as lightening as it shot out to flick the volume back down. A low noise that sounded perilously close to Lady’s growl rose from Sandor’s direction. It sent a shiver down Sansa’s spine.

“Girl, it’s early and that racket is giving me a headache.”

Sansa swallowed and used the control pad on her steering wheel to lower the volume - but only by a few decibels. _A compromise_ , she thought to herself. Sandor huffed back in his seat, accepting, but not thrilled, with the compromise. Silence descended on them for the next few miles.

The increasingly awkward silence was broken with Sandor bumping into her ribs in his jostling to reach a cup of coffee. He took a sip, his teeth as white as his crisp dress shirt as he grimaced at the still scalding hot liquid, before the silence swooped in on them once again. It was so awkward Sansa’s skin prickled all over.

She glanced at Sandor, who was angled towards the door and staring out of the window. The manners Catelyn had drummed into her from a young age were screaming at Sansa. It was her car, she was the host here, it was her job to make her her guest feel welcome and comfortable, however rude he might have been. Clearly he was uncomfortable physically, crammed up as he was, but there had to be something she could do to put him at ease and erase the engulfing awkwardness of silence that was blanketing them.

Sansa racked her brains. She couldn’t think of one single point of interest they might have in common. Her fingers drummed on the steering wheel as she became increasingly desperate to find something, _anything_ , to fill the silence.

Come on, Sansa. _Think_!

Oh! Of course!

“Have you got any holidays planned this year?” She blurted out suddenly, too fast and too breathless in her excitement of finding something to talk about. Everyone loves holidays.

She let out a relieved sigh and leaned back into her seat, a confident smile on her face. This would be it! By the time they got to work they would know everything about each other.

Sandor turned to look at her, his eyes squinted and an odd expression in his face.

“No.”

“Oh.” _Damn_. “What about last year?”

“No.”

“The...year before?”

The silence deafened her.

“The...” she swallowed nervously. “The year before that?” She tailed off, her confidence diminishing with every word.

“I don’t have holidays.”

“Oh. Are you scared of flying?”

“What? No. Of course not.”

“So why don’t you have holidays?” She needed to stop, she knew that, but she just couldn’t. The words were just tumbling out of her mouth. She felt powerless to stop them.

Sandor glared at her and stayed silent, looking resolutely out of the window. Sansa rolled her eyes to herself. Sandor really wasn’t a morning person.

A few miles down the road Sandor broke the silence, still speaking into the window. “I have a dog that makes it difficult to travel. And besides it’s not all that fun having holidays by yourself.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Sansa was surprised by this - _look at him_! But it did explain his lack of manners.

“No.” That strange growling noise was back.

“But you _did_ have a girlfriend, right? I remember that.”

“Yes. We broke up. About three years ago.”

Sansa squinted. That wasn’t right. She saw him at the last Sevenmas party with a girl.

“What was her name?”

“Ros.”

“Oh, that’s pretty! What was she like?”

Sandor paused, clearly considering his words. A smirk pulled at his lips. “She was like a cheap version of you.”

Sansa’s brow creased. Her mouth opened then closed again, then opened as if she was about to speak but changed her mind.

Was that an insult? She couldn’t decide.

“Why’d you split up?” If he could be rude, she could be too. But in a polite was of course. Passive aggressive, Arya called it.

Sandor shrugged. “Why do people break up?”

Sansa shot him a look that suggested he was a little bit slow. “Well, _loads_ of reasons. My last boyfriend for example, we broke up because he was my only boyfriend but I was one of many of his girlfriends. The one before that was, uh, well...he wasn’t that nice. The one before that we just didn’t have much in common.”

“Wow. Lots of boyfriends for a young age.”

Sansa pulled a face. “I’m twenty seven. I don’t think three boyfriends in ten years is ‘ _lots_ ’.” She fixed her gaze back on the road. “So why did you and Ros split up?”

Sandor shrugged once again. “There was no excitement anymore.”

“How long were you together?”

Sandor’s eyes were hard, his jaw pulsing as he ground his teeth.

“Was it a bad break up?” Sansa asked, misinterpreting the jaw clenching. “Do you hate her now?”

“No, of course not. It was the right thing. She’s married now. Has a kid, I think. She wouldn’t have that if we were still together.”

“Why? Do you not want to get married?”

Sandor goggled at her. For a woman who he had only really met forty minutes ago she sure wasn’t shy about asking personal questions.

“Fucking hell.” He sighed, resigned. “I didn’t want to get married to Ros, no. I haven’t ever met a woman I can picture myself marrying.”

Sansa nodded, satisfied with his answer.

“So what’s in your schedule for today?” Sansa abruptly changed subject.

The tall, black glass spike in the skyline of King’s Landing was visible now. Sansa only worked on the third floor but often day dreamed about an office on the thirty ninth level with a floor to ceiling window that gave panoramic views of the entire city and beyond.

“Hey,” she interrupted before he could even answer her previous question, a thought suddenly entering her head. “What floor do you work on?”

“Thirty seven.”

 _Huh_.

“Do you have your own office?”

“I guess. I use it more for storage or meetings though. Day to day I sit at a desk with the rest of the department.”

It was Sansa’s turn to be gobsmacked now. “You have an office on the _thirty seventh floor_ , with a floor to ceiling window overlooking the whole of King’s Landing and you use it for _storage_?”

Sandor snorted. “King’s Landing’s a cesspit. There’s nothing glamorous about it, but if you ever want to come and check out the view from my office, feel free, little bird. Anytime.”

There was nothing about Sandor’s tone or demeanour to suggest anything untoward, but Sansa couldn’t help squirming in her seat at his words.

“Thank you.” She whispered, breathless once again.

Sansa slowed the vehicle as she entered the flow of traffic up to Aegon’s High Hill, too flustered for the moment to be worried about keeping Sandor talking.

“What about you?” Sandor asked, for the first time in the journey it was he who initiated the conversation.

Sansa startled and looked at him blankly. Sandor laughed at her, his straight, perfect teeth - the only symmetrical thing about his face - flashing at her. “What floor at you on?”

“Oh. Three.” She pulled a face. “Overlooking the car park.” She paused as she moved down another gear. “Or, whatever will be there now the car park has gone.”

Sandor nodded. “If you want to see a view you should try and get an invite up to Tyrion’s office. He has the entire top floor to himself so the views of the city are all around.” Sandor frowned at that, as if the thought of Sansa having a reason to be in Tyrion’s office was unpleasant.

As soon as Sansa had pulled into the allocated parking space at Lannister Enterprises, Sandor’s hand was on the door handle, ready to leap out of the car. Sansa couldn’t decide if it was because he was so keen to stretch his legs or to get away from her.

“So I’ll see you back here at 5?” Sansa asked, as Sandor was pulling his suit jacket on. He really was very _broad_.

“Yep.”

“Have a great day!” She called after him as he walked off into the glass fronted building.

“Thanks for the lift Sansa, have a great day.” She mimicked to herself in her best growly voice to his retreating back. To her absolute horror, Sandor, a good ten metres ahead of her, turned to face her and raised his brows before spinning back around and walking off. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter this time, to give a bit more context.

  
At 5:03pm Sandor was crammed back into the bright pink Barbiemobile waiting for Sansa to finish gossiping with Shae. He was trying the tune them out - he really couldn’t give a flying fuck who Petyr Baelish has hit on now - but as he was sat inside the car and Sansa was stood up outside and facing away from him, he had a rather fortunate view of her backside pressed up against the window.

Too bad she had on that hideous yellow sundress, although if he squinted hard enough he was sure he could make out the lace edging of her underwear through the thin yellow fabric.

Suddenly the door opened and as Sansa’s sing song voice cooed her goodbyes to Shae, Sandor whipped his head around so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash.

“Sorry,” Sansa started as she climbed in, belted up and started the engine, “Shae’s a real talker.” She rolled her eyes. “Plus, it doesn’t hurt to know what’s going on around here.”

Sansa glanced across to check her passenger had his seatbelt fastened. Seeing that he did she shot him a full watt smile before throwing the car into reverse and smoothly rolling out of the parking space.

“So, How was your day? Anything interesting happen?”

Jeez, she wasn’t any less perky after a full day’s work than she was first thing in the morning. Her voice was as bright and cheerful as it would be if she was sat with her best friend drinking wine in the sunshine rather than chauffeuring a relative stranger.

“Same old, same old.” He replied, watching as the office buildings slowly turned into bars and restaurants and then into shops as they descended the hill. He wondered if she used to walk up the hill every day. Her rear certainly was not deserving of someone who sat around on it all day.

“What do you actually do?” Sansa asked, “I mean I know you’re very senior and important and you’re pretty much everyone’s boss. But day to day. What do you do?”

Sandor snorted as her cheeks turned an endearing shade of pink.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that! I don’t think you don’t do anything! I’m just interested.”

A half smile tugged at Sandor’s lips. “It’s a fair question.” He ran a hand through his hair, dropped his iPhone into his lap and turned his body to face her. “You’re really interested?”

Sansa nodded. Her ponytail bounced and her earrings tinkled.

“Ok. You’re in marketing - that’s a support service, like HR, IT and Finance. Pretty much everything else falls under my directorate. Customer services, product sales, product development, security. I spend most of my days taking to people - the people that I manage and the board. Although that’s pretty much just Tyrion at the minute.”

“Oh. That does sound pretty senior. Very senior. How come you don’t get your own parking space?”

Sandor sighed. “Tyrion doesn’t believe in hierarchy. Neither do I, actually. But parking would be useful.”

Sansa giggled, for lack of knowing how else to respond to Sandor now she knew just how big and important he was within Lannister Enterprises.

The lull in conversation dragged on, with only the - much softer than usual - sounds of Westeros’ top 40 summer anthems floating out from the radio.

“What about you?” Sandor asked, his gravelly voice breaking the calm.

“What about me?”

“Day to day. What do you do?” He mimicked her.

“Oh!” Sansa giggled nervously again, “I mostly come up colours. Well, I communicate l to the public using colours.”

“Using...colours? What does that even mean.”

“Colour is super important. It can influence everything - your emotions and your mood to how you feel about something. That’s why it’s so important to decorate your house properly.” Her blue eyes met Sandor’s for the briefest of moments before they were back on the road again. “Like, if you had a orange bedroom and then were surprised that you got hungry a lot and couldn’t switch off.” She said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The creases in his forehead told her it wasn’t.

“Cos orange is an invigorating colour. It stimulates your brain and energises you.” She explained, as if he was dumb. “The same thing applies with our marketing. We want colour to communicate what it is we do and also strike some kind of emotion into people. Make them act.”

Sandor still looked blank. Sansa was getting excited now, this was the part of her job that she really loved. “Alright, so think about fast food restaurants. What colours do they have in common?” The tinkling noise was back as she moved her head and rattled the bangles on her arms with her gestures.

Sandor took a moment to consider the question. “Red?” He spoke as if he was t entirely sure of his answer.

“Right! That’s exactly it!” Sansa beamed at him. “Red communicates to us subconsciously and we associate certain feelings with that. Red makes us feel energetic and powerful and creates feelings of desire. Biologically it makes our heart rate go faster and creates a feeling of urgency. We can’t change that, it’s built into us. Red is so powerful.” Sansa finished, reverently.

“You’re telling me.”

“So next time you’re craving a burger just know that you’re not really desiring a burger, it’s just your biology being manipulated by good marketing.”

Sandor’s eyes darted to her ponytail for the briefest of seconds.

“Good to know.”

He spoke almost entirely to himself.

Most of the journey passed by uneventfully with Sansa concentrating on the road rather than bombarding him with questions. As they drew closer to his house he could tell something was on her mind - her grip on the steering wheel was more formal and she had stopped absentmindedly singing along to the radio and bobbing her head and instead was chewing on her lip and shooting him glances when she thought he wasn’t looking.

“Alright. Out with it!” Sandor knew the question that was on the tip of her tongue. His scars were facing her and it’s all anyone ever cared about asking him.

Sansa flinched at the heat in his voice.

“It’s just...”

“I said spit it out.”

“Your bedroom isn’t orange, is it?” She spilled out all at once, her cheeks flaming.

She sank back into her chair, tension leaving her shoulders as her hold on the steering wheel relaxed.

“What?!”

“Oh I feel so much better for asking! Sandor, you _can’t_ have an orange bedroom! You’ll never get any rest!”

The roar of laughter echoed through the car, as unexpected as a wave of wildfire rolling across the adjacent field and engulfing the car.

“No, little bird. My bedroom isn’t orange.”


	4. Chapter 4

From: Stark, Sansa  
To: Human Resources; Payne, Podrick; Stark, Arya; Poole, Jeyne; Tyrell, Loras; Baratheon, Myrcella; Sand, Elaria; Clegane, Sandor  
Subject: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

Guys! Please please please please please please please please can someone help me!

I’m desperate...

Some idiot has hidden all my coffee and replaced the communal one with _DECAF_! DECAF! How is anyone meant to get anything done around here with _decaf_?! Urgh! :(

And I have my appraisal in thirty minutes with Brienne. I’ve not had any coffee so far today   :( and I cannot ask Brienne for more money without a coffee to make me brave!

Does anyone have any real coffee I can borrow?

PLEASE :D

\- - - - -

From: Stark, Arya  
To: Stark, Sansa; Human Resources; Payne, Podrick; Poole, Jeyne; Tyrell, Loras; Baratheon, Myrcella; Sand, Elaria; Clegane, Sandor  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

I don’t know why you’ve included me in this email, you know I’m in the Riverlands at the moment. Sorry sis, can’t help.

A

\- - - -

  
From: Human Resources  
To: Stark, Sansa; Payne, Podrick; Stark, Arya; Poole, Jeyne; Tyrell, Loras; Baratheon, Myrcella; Sand, Elaria; Clegane, Sandor  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

Only decaf here too, caffeine is _soooooo_ bad for wrinkles. You should really use this as an opportunity to go cold turkey before you end up looking like Olenna.

XOXO

\- - - - -

From: Payne, Podrick  
To: Stark, Sansa; Human Resources; Stark, Arya; Poole, Jeyne; Tyrell, Loras; Baratheon, Myrcella; Sand, Elaria; Clegane, Sandor  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

Hi Sans,

I’m in a meeting at the minute, I can stop at a shop on the way back to the office and pick you up a new jar?

Pod

\- - - - -

From: Tyrell, Loras  
To: Stark, Sansa; Human Resources; Stark, Arya; Poole, Jeyne; Baratheon, Myrcella; Sand, Elaria; Clegane, Sandor; Payne, Podrick  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

Same as Marg, Sans. Only decaf here. It really is very bad for you.

\- - - - -

  
From: Stark, Sansa  
To: Human Resources; Payne, Podrick; Stark, Arya; Poole, Jeyne; Tyrell, Loras; Baratheon, Myrcella; Sand, Elaria; Clegane, Sandor  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

:( :( :( :( :(

I’m going to be poor forever!

\- - - - -

From: Human Resources  
To: Stark, Sansa; Payne, Podrick; Stark, Arya; Poole, Jeyne; Tyrell, Loras; Baratheon, Myrcella; Sand, Elaria; Clegane, Sandor  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

If you’d move in with me like I _keep asking_ you to then you wouldn’t have to worry about rent at all!

XOXO

\- - - - -

From: Baratheon, Myrcella  
To: Stark, Sansa; Payne, Podrick; Stark, Arya; Poole, Jeyne; Tyrell, Loras; Sand, Elaria; Clegane, Sandor; Human Resources  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

OMG! Sansa are you moving into the city? That’s great news!

Cella

\- - - -

From: Clegane, Sandor  
To: Stark, Sansa; Human Resources; Payne, Podrick; Poole, Jeyne; Tyrell, Loras; Baratheon, Myrcella; Sand, Elaria; Stark, Arya  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

For fucks sake can you please remove me from this all replies group!

Sansa. I have some coffee you can have. Come up to my office and I’ll have it ready for you.

  
\- - - - -

From: Human Resources  
To: Stark, Sansa; Payne, Podrick; Stark, Arya; Poole, Jeyne; Tyrell, Loras; Baratheon, Myrcella; Sand, Elaria; Clegane, Sandor  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

And that is why we call him the office ogre. What a _misery_!

XOXO

\- - - - -

From: Clegane, Sandor  
To: Stark, Sansa; Human Resources; Payne, Podrick; Poole, Jeyne; Tyrell, Loras; Baratheon, Myrcella; Sand, Elaria; Stark, Arya  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

You have not removed me from the group email.

\- - - -

From: Human Resources  
To: Stark, Sansa; Payne, Podrick; Stark, Arya; Poole, Jeyne; Tyrell, Loras; Baratheon, Myrcella; Sand, Elaria;  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

Sansa he is so grumpy! I don’t know how you put up with him every day!

XOXO

\- - - - -

From: Stark, Sansa  
To: Clegane, Sandor  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

My hero.  
:D

\- - - - -

From: Clegane, Sandor  
To: Stark, Sansa  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

That Tyrell bitch is right. Your need for coffee isn’t healthy.

\- - - - -

From: Stark, Arya  
To: Payne, Podrick  
Subject: Re: PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!

Hi Pod

I finally have your email address from Sansa’s coffee quest. I’m in Kings Landing in a few weeks. Would you like t go out for a drink?

Arya Stark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! There’s something about the next chapter I don’t feel 100% happy with as it is, so I thought I’d do this light hearted interlude. The next chapter will reveal why Sansa has had to go through a coffee-less day.
> 
> As soon as I’m happy with the next chapter it will be up, and it might make you happy to know I’ve already written all the steamy bits! And boy are some of them steamy!


	5. Chapter 5

Sandor’s eyes narrowed as he took in the slim fingers braced against the glove box and the panicked look in those too blue eyes.

 

“Oh my god! Sandor! Please slow down!”

 

His own eyes rolled. “You’re being dramatic.”

 

“I’m not! What speed are you doing?” She tried to peer into the driver’s information display.

 

“Sixty.”

 

“Liar. You didn’t even look.”

 

He made a show of moving his head to look at the car’s speed dial and then back at the road.

 

“Sixty one.”

 

“Sixty one what? Light years per second?”

 

He huffed, trying to disguise his amusement with a snort. “It feels quick because you’re used to that slow ass eco car where septa’s on bicycles overtake you, and the engine in this is a masterclass in the art of mechanical engineering.”

 

Sansa pulled a face. “It feels quick because you are going quick! The limit’s 50. Do you want a speeding ticket?”

 

Sandor grunted. As if he would put someone else at risk. Especially her.

 

Sansa seemed to calm down once they hit the main roads and began sipping from the plastic travel cup she’d bought with her. It was pink and glittery, full of frothy milk and sugar and very little actual coffee. She’d gotten Sandor a travel mug too; a boring matte black one that she filled with strong black coffee each morning. By the time she actually handed it over to him it was only ever half full, because she always drank the first half on the drive over to his house. Each morning when she handed it to him, Sandor would swish it around, gaging how much she’d left for him and raising his eyebrows. She just smiled back sweetly. After all, he could hardly complain she’d taken a few small sips from the free coffee she made for him every morning.

 

 

 

They’d settled into a pleasant routine over the past week. An acceptable volume for the radio had been reached, although when one of Sansa’s favourite songs came on she did reach over and crank the volume right up, singing along and making up little dance moves. Whilst Sandor looked at her like she had a screw loose every time she done it, he had stopped immediately turning the volume back down and let her reach the end of the song before ruining her live mini concert. One or two times, when a song was playing that Sandor knew, he’d joined in and sung along, although his singing was more of a muttered growl that Sansa felt vibrating in her chest, rather than heard.

 

“What sort of music do you like?” Sansa cheeped.

 

Still unused to incessant conversation, ever, let alone so early in the morning, Sandor sighed, more out of habit than annoyance.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“You must know!”

 

“What’s playing now?”

 

“One Direction. Why? You’re not a 1-D’er are you?” She goggled, unable to picture Sandor at a 1D concert with Harry Style’s head stretched across his chest in a too tight t-shirt, surrounded by screaming girls.

 

“1-D’er..? I don’t even...No. I’m not.”

 

“Oh. So why’d you ask what’s playing?”

 

“Because I don’t like that.”

 

“So what do you like?”

 

She was met with a shrug.

 

“Ok. Since you clearly only listen to the radio because I’m here, what did you used to listen to before I tagged along?”

 

“History book audiotapes.”

 

“Oh.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Did Ros buy them for you?”

 

“No. Why would you think that?”

 

“I just can’t imagine you going into a shop and buying audiobooks.” She couldn’t imagine Sandor going many places; she worried he’d barely fit through the doorways with his broad shoulders and tall stature.

 

“I didn’t. I bought them online.”

 

“Have you seen Ros lately?”

 

“Why are you always so interested in Ros?”

 

It was a fair question. Sansa had bought the Ros subject up at least once a day since the start of their car sharing agreement. She couldn’t help herself though, she was intrigued by the woman who had caught Sandor in her spell for seven years of his life.

 

“You just spent so many years with her, I’m sure she’s had an impact on you and shaped you in some way.”

 

“Doubt it.” Sandor dismissed. “What about you, then?”

 

“What about me?”

 

Sandor’s jaw clenched, annoyed he’d actually have to voice the question that had been plaguing him for the past four days.

 

“Are you...you know...?” He took a deep breath. “Is anyone wooing you?”

 

“Is anyone..? Wooing? Wooing me? What century are you in?”

 

Sandor didn’t respond. Even if he did, he doubted she would have heard him over her giggles.

 

“No,” she finally managed to splutter out. “No one is _wooing_ me. I have just signed up to a dating site though. It would be nice to meet someone.”

 

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, overly nonchalant. She was disappointed when she saw he didn’t react in any way. “You know, not one of the free swipe right, swipe left ones. One of the old school ones where they do personality tests and match you up scientifically. I don’t want to end up with a cheapskate loser.”

 

Sandor scoffed. “Personality tests are a load of bollocks. When you meet someone you know if you like them or not. You don’t need to pay someone to tell you that.” His voice was rougher than usual when he spoke and unwittingly intense. It changed something about the air. He could feel it building thick and heavy around him, as if his words had some hidden meaning that he wasn’t sure of.

 

Sansa turned in her seat, angling her body to him and drawing one knee up, stretching the other leg out, luxuriating in the space that her little car didn’t provide.

 

She was smiling that sunshine smile of hers, the one that was hard to look away from. He was sure no one, not even his own mother, had smiled so brightly just for him before. And he knew what she was going to say, but he couldn’t deal with that, not so early, not just yet. Not when he hadn’t even worked his feelings out in his own head yet. So Sandor Clegane took a lead out of Sansa’s book and distracted her with an inane question.

 

“What’s in your car emergency kit?”

 

“My-What?” Her eyebrow creased in confusion and the edges of her mouth twitched slightly as her smile dropped, and then she caught herself, fixing it back in place with determination.

 

All at once the air, previously so cloying and rich, started to deflate like a balloon with a puncture, and with it Sandor started to relax again. Tightness he hadn’t even realised was there left his muscles as his grip on the steering wheel loosened.

 

“In case you break down or crash. What do you keep for emergencies?”

 

“Uh...” She took a big gulp of coffee, wondering what world, exactly, this giant man came from. “I don’t have a car emergency kit. I live thirty minutes from the biggest city in Westeros.”

 

Annoyance hit Sandor across the face, though he wouldn’t be able to say why her answer had prickled him so much, it was a perfectly reasonable response.

 

“Don’t have one? What if you break down in winter?” He viciously lashes out. “Drive your stupid little car into a snow drift and get stuck all night? You wouldn’t survive an hour without a blanket when the temperatures are below freezing. Wouldn’t be able to dig your way out without a spade, or flag down help without a flash light. You’d die, girl. All because you’re too much of a princess to think about something practical.”

 

Sansa took a moment to absorb his words, going from intense and meaningful one minute to rude and hurtful the next, so quickly it gave her emotional whiplash. For the second time in as many minutes she found herself wondering where, exactly, this giant brute of a man came from. Without a word, she turned in her seat to face the window and didn’t speak for the remainder of the journey.

 

 

***

 

 

Sandor was already sat in his car, waiting for her when they finished work. She knew being late would annoy him, and so she delighted in offering to wash up all the coffee mugs for the entire department at the end of the day, causing her to run ten minutes later than usual.

 

Gliding into the seat, chin in the air, as if she wasn’t acting like the princess he had earlier accused her of being, Sansa barely looked at Sandor as she spoke. “I hope you’re in a better mood.”

 

Keys jangled as Sandor fidgeted with them. “Look. I apologise for what I said this morning. You’re not some dumb princess, I was just tired.”

 

“You’re forgiven.” Sansa smiled, but still wouldn’t look at him, still sat with her back too straight and her knees demurely pressed together rather than draping herself across the seat as she usually did. She wanted him to work for his apology.

 

“Really. I mean it.”

 

She deigned to face him then, twisting in her seat, a coy smile on her face. “Really? How much?”

 

“Uh...”

 

“Because I didn’t get a chance to take lunch today, and I am _starving_ and I do happen to know we pass by that new drive through Starbucks on the route home.”

 

“You want me to buy you a coffee? To apologise?” Sandor clarified.

 

“No, I would like for you to buy me a brownie. A coffee would just be an added bonus. Since I do make you one every morning.” She grinned at him then, and his jaw twitched a small smile back, before he started the engine and roared out of the car park.

 

                              ***

 

“Can I get two brownies, an Americano and...” he gazed at Sansa to find her studying the drinks menu as if the choice she was about to make would impact her life irrevocably.

 

“A caramel macchiato please - wait, no, an iced latte with an extra shot of - hmmm, no it’s too cold for that-“

 

“Two Americanos. No milk.” Sandor spoke over Sansa, into the intercom, and followed the instruction to drive to the next window. 

 

As they drove round, a pretty, smiling brunette was there to take Sandor’s cash. Sansa frowned as she watched the brunette overtly flirt with Sandor, asking him about his day and his plans for the evening while she waited for her colleague to get their drinks order ready. The girl was leaning so far out of the serving hatch she was basically leaning in through the open car window.

 

Sansa assessed what the girl’s view of the world. Sandor was a very attractive man, underneath all the beard and grouchiness, but a stranger wouldn’t know that, wouldn’t know how many walls he put up to protect himself from anyone getting too close. His one word answers might have shown a hint of that though, or his refusal to make eye contact or ask the questions back to the server. Sansa’s eyes landed on his huge bicep, straining against the white cotton dress shirt. Oh _yes_ , he was _very_ attractive, if only he wasn’t so adamant of being single and keeping it that way.

 

Sandor glanced at her, frowning at the smile lighting her face. Then he turned reaching for for the tray of drinks and bag of treats and Sansa saw the brunette flinch back, a horrified look on her face, and Sansa worried that a burning hot drink had been spilled on her.

 

“Are you alright?” She asked, concern lacimy her words.

 

“Yes, yes, fine.” The girl quickly recovered her composure, betrayed only by her voice, an octave higher than it just had been. The girl’s eyes landed on Sandor’s cheek. His scarred cheek. The cheek that had been hidden from her, revealed only when he turned to pick up the drinks.

 

Bile rose in Sansa’s throat. She glared at the girl, and if the power of a gaze could freeze someone in place, this girl would be encased in a block of ice, the guilt so plain on her face preserved for everyone to see.

 

Sandor’s entire demeanour had changed. He was rigid, his cold gaze straight ahead as he passed the drinks and treats to Sansa, rolled his window up and drove away, without glancing at the brunette. Sansa could practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves, could see it in the pulsing of his jaw, his white knuckles from his too tight grip, and most betrayingly, from the low growl he didn’t even know he was making.

 

“Sandor,” her voice was soft, as if he was an injured animal, not a fully grown man. She hesitated, but eventually her hand rested on his, their fingers not quite intertwined over the gear stick. As they carried on the drive neither made a move to detangle their hands until Sansa started shouting at Sandor to take the exit.

 

“What are you talking about, girl? We aren’t even half way home yet.”

 

“Take it! Quick! You’re going to miss it!”

 

Against his better judgement he flicked the indicator on, took the exit and followed Sansa’s excited directions into the middle of nowhere.

 

“Pull in here!”

 

Sandor snorted. The road, if the grassy, gravelled, winding path they had taken could be called a road, ended abruptly; he had no other choice but to pull in or they would be dangling over a cliff edge.

 

Sansa jumped out of the car, grabbing their drinks and brownies and skipped over to the edge of the cliff. Sandor watched as she clambered down, all long legs and billowing red hair, but made no move to follow her.

 

“Aren’t you coming?” She called, voice half swept away by the wind and the crashing waves of the sea far, far below them.

 

With a sigh, and a glance around at the lush grass fields and crumbling rock, the twinkling turquoise of the sea, and then another sigh, Sandor locked the car and followed her down.

 

Closer now, he could see she wasn’t, in fact, scaling the edge of the cliff and making a slow decent to the water below, she was actually following a foot beaten path through the grass, until they arrived, half way down the cliff’s edge, to the tongue of the cliff, jutting out past the land above.

 

The space was small, with a bench, whether man made to look natural, or simply a huge limestone rock worn into a bench from decades worth of human use, rising out of the ground, dominating most of the space.

 

Sansa placed the coffee tray down on the bench and took a few steps closer to the crumbling edge of the cliff. Sandor’s fingertips tingled with the urge to pull her back, far from the edge, far from harm. She turned to look at him then, her eyes as deep blue as the sparkling sapphire of the Blackwater bay behind her.

 

“This is my secret space,” she smiled, taking a deep breath of cleansing salt air. “I come here on the way home sometimes, after an awful day or when I just need to rebalance.” She turned to gaze out over the sea, the waves glittering as the setting sun hit them, turning the bay into sparkling carpet of azure jewels and frothing pearls.

 

Sansa moved to the bench, sat and held a coffee and a brownie out to Sandor. He joined her, the bench so small their shoulders brushed every time they moved. Sipping their coffee, they watched the sun set in a peaceful silence, until it became so dark the sounds of the waves crashing against land was the only indicator of the sea in front of them.

 

“It’s only skin, Sandor. Everyone has it.” She whispered as they got back in the car to finish their journey home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s all a bit angstier this chapter, but the usual lightheartedness will be back next time, when Sansa wants a day off work. 
> 
> It occurred to me this chapter how very out of character Sansa and Sandor are. I hope you don’t mind too much. I think trying to move them into a modern world with modern values and societal attitudes will always shift them out of their true characters a bit, but I’ve tried to keep key characteristics here, with Sandor’s seemingly grumpy, impatient, mis-trustful outward demeanour and Sansa’s niavity and positive outlook. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for the comments on this so far, I love to know you’re enjoying it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to apologise for the delay in getting this up - some stuff has been going on that hasn’t been the best motivator for me to write fluffy SanSan stuff, but I’m getting back into it.
> 
> In this chapter we see Sansa lusting over Donnoli (think along the lines of the hype over Dominique Ansell’s cronut which, coincidentally, I am still yet to try and totally obsessed with), Moscato and...Sandor.
> 
> In other news I have discovered picsets (master procrastinator here) do enjoy!

From: Lannister, Tyrion

To: All Staff

Subject: Media Requests

 

Dear colleagues

 

If you somehow managed to escape the constant media circus surrounding my family this weekend then I commend you for your interests and pursuits outside of this century, however I have no doubt a few of you have questions that you would like to know the answers to, so you can understand exactly what kind of company you work for, and therefore how to make it appear the complete opposite to the media.

 

Let me start with a few facts:

 

  1. Yes it is true that Cersei Lannister, former CEO, was arrested Saturday afternoon for trafficking.
  2. Yes, it’s also true that Cersei Lannister, former CEO was caught in a sexually compromising position with two Braavosi males, who were later confirmed to be victims of Cersei’s trafficking scheme
  3. Cersei Lannister was further arrested for extortion, bribery and resisting arrest.
  4. Joffrey Lannister, former Vice President of Operations, was arrested and charged for actual bodily harm against a police officer.



 

It’s very likely that everything you’ve read about Cersei and Joffrey over the weekend is true. However, I want to reassure you neither of those gormless maggots have anything to do with Lannister Enterprises. The only link between Joffrey, Cersei and Lannister Enterprises is the shared last name.

 

I’ve asked Brienne, our Communications Manager, to send around a useful Q&A guide for dealing with media enquiries, but if you don’t feel comfortable speaking with those nosy journalists, feel free to tell them to piss off.

 

Tyrion.

 

 

  * \- - - -



 

 

It was Thursday morning. Sansa was late, tired and felt like she’s been working for three weeks straight already. But it was only _Thursday_. She pulled a sad face at herself in the mirror as she ran a mascara wand through her lashes.

 

Work had really hammered her so far this week. With Cersei and Joff’s antics over the weekend, her team had been pushed hard to put out family friendly messages and distance Lannister Enterprises from the hot mess that was the Lannister name. Long days and even longer evenings working from home meant Sansa had nearly worked a full 40 hours in just three days and she still hadn’t nailed the right shade of family friendly, ethical green.

 

So she hardly blamed herself for crawling back under her duvet for an extra five minutes once she’d finished her makeup while waiting for the coffee to percolate. She would love to pull a sick day today, stay in bed all day and not have to attend endless briefings on why Lannister Enterprises could not be associated with Cersei Lannister. As if _that_ wasn’t obvious.

 

Throwing back the duvet and crawling from the bed like a lazy cat being forced awake, Sansa thought of Sandor and wondered if he would be lonely without her on the ride in to Kings Landing. Her lips quirked a smile as she realised he’d probably be glad of the peace, and it was actually her that felt a little bereft at the thought of a day without him.

 

A thought formed in Sansa’s mind as she crossed her small apartment, the tantalising idea blooming and spreading like whisky warming the body on a cold day, until it was fully formed, and made Sansa’s cheeks redden. Her eyes slid back across to her bed. Shaking her head, she poured their coffees into the travel cups, grabbed her handbag and with a last glance around her apartment, her eyes once again landed on her unmade bed. A decision she was unaware she was even contemplating was made then, and she dropped her belongings onto the small kitchen table and moved to make her bed. _Just in case._

 

 

 

Taking a sip of Sandor’s strong coffee in her car Sansa laughed at how ridiculous she was. He could barely stand a thirty minute car journey with her.

 

She couldn’t picture him pulling a sick day either.

 

_Sandor Clegane in my bed, indeed._

 

Whilst most of her brain was laughing at how silly a pair of biceps sculpted by the gods and that deep, ragged voice made her, another, smaller part piped up. _Of course Sandor Clegane wouldn’t end up in your bed - you’dalready be at his house, so it would be you in his bed..._

 

 

Sandor was already outside waiting for her when she pulled into his drive way, a white dress shirt hanging from his finger and a black tshirt stretched across his torso. Sansa frowned. That wasn’t normal.

 

“Hi!” She called as she ran from her car to his, throwing her bag in the back and plonking herself down in the passenger seat.

 

“Urgh, I could really do without today,” she moaned while Sandor hung his shirt on a hanger and attached it to the back of the driver’s seat so it could hang without risk of creasing. “I was working until 11 last night!” She yawned, eyeing the bags under her eyes in the rearview mirror.

 

Sandor was taking his time with the shirt and curiosity was killing her. Sansa had never been a patient girl where Sandor was concerned.

 

“What’s with the casual wear?” She asked the moment he sat in his seat, holding out his travel mug to him.

 

Taking the proffered coffee and signature Sansa Stark smile, Sandor took a gulp before responding with his customary mono-syllabic answer.

 

“Meeting later.”

 

This piqued Sansa’s interest more than he had anticipated. “Ooh who with?”

 

Sandor sighed, although she suspected somewhere deep down he enjoyed someone paying an interest in his life.

 

“Some new clients in Maidenpool.”

 

“Maidenpool! That’s miles away! What time do you have to be there?”

 

Sandor snorted. “It’s about an hour and a half, drama queen.”

 

“Still...that’s three hours driving, there and back.”

 

The tendril of an idea grasped her, curling deliciously around her brain. _Play it cool, Sansa._

 

“You know, there’s a food and wine festival on in Maidenpool at the moment?” Her voice was too casual, posture overly nonchalant.

 

“Oh yeah?” Sandor smirked at her, raising his brows and she cursed herself for being too easy to read.

 

“Yeah. Just, you know, thought you might want to check it out. If you’re over that way.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

“Yep. Of course, you might get lonely by yourself, it’s more of a social activity thing, isn’t it?”

 

“I’m just fine with my own company.” He smirked.

 

Sansa battled for the next five minutes to not say another word about it, instead playing on her phone and distracting herself with a game of Dragon Crush. She couldn’t focus and lost her third game in a row.

 

“I’ve always wanted to go to the food festival in Maidenpool, of course.” Sansa watched him out of the side of her eye as she started her fourth game.

 

“Have you now?”

 

“Yes. And actually, I wasn’t feeling too well this morning. I considered calling in sick for work as a matter of fact.” She licked her phone screen and dropped it to her lap, giving up all pretence.

 

Sandor was outwardly smirking now, much to Sansa’s dismay.

 

“Oh come on!” She cried, throwing her hands in the air. “Let me come with you! It’ll be loads of fun. I’ve had a terrible week, already put in over 40 hours and I would kill to try anything from Hot Pie’s pop up bakery! I can pull a sickie and we can spend the day together!”

 

“Sorry, Sansa. I really am there for a meeting. I can’t just bin that off.”

 

To Sansa’s surprise he genuinely did look regretful.

 

“Yeah, of course, you have to go to the meeting. But I can just wander around Maidenpool and wait for you. Then when you’re finished we can go eat _everything_!”

 

Sandor was silent for a few moments, the twitching of his lip telling her he was weighing up his options.

 

“Alright. But you have to work out how to get the day off work.”

 

“Yes!” Sansa flung herself at Sandor over the centre divide, hugging him as best she could with her seatbelt restraining her. “Come on then, let’s go get some breakfast!” Sansa grinned, clapping in excitement.

 

Sandor shook his head and looked on in mock disapproval. “You are unbelievable.”

 

 

***

 

 

“Shall we play a car game?”

 

“No.”

 

“How about the yes-no game?”

 

“No.”

 

“I win.”

 

 

***

 

 

The sun was shining in that late summer way, not too hot, but warm enough to not need a coat and the breeze from the sea was lifting Sansa’s hair from her shoulders, cooling her neck. She was sat alone at table for two in small cafe on the outskirts of Maidenpool that was best described as more shabby than chic, and Sansa was indulging in the pure luxury of doing absolutely nothing. Other than stretching her legs out into the sun, watching the glittering azure sea in the distance and occasionally taking sips of her really rather delicious moscato wine, Sansa was able to keep a blissfully empty mind. The more of the moscato she drank, the less guilty she felt for lying to Brienne, faking a sick bug and leaving the rest of the team in the lurch.

 

She hummed a contented sigh and glanced at her phone. She’d been here just over an hour now, nursing the same glass of wine, waiting for Sandor’s meeting to wrap up. He’d said he would pick up her once he was finished and drive them into the town proper so they could wander around the festival and eat. Sansa was famished but refused to order anything to eat at this little cafe in case she got too full to try everything she wanted at the festival.

 

When Sandor eventually showed up, he’d changed back into his tshirt. Sansa decided she preferred the tshirt to the dress shirt. The tshirt gave her a much better view of his obscenely large muscles rippling beneath the surface of his skin as he manoeuvred the car around Maidenpool’s narrow, twisty streets.

 

 

By the time they found somewhere to park Sansa was starving, and her stomach announced its discontent with a loud rumble. Sandor looked at her, eye brows raised, a genuine smile tugging the corner of his good lip.

 

“I’m starving!” She announced, needlessly.

 

“Let’s go get you some food, little bird.”

 

The festival was huge, starting in a public park and spilling out onto the main high street running through Maidenpool. The smells were mouth wateringly delicious, from garlic to ginger to sugar and coffee. With each new scent Sansa excitedly dragged Sandor by his arm to the next stall. She forced Sandor to do two laps of the entire festival, visiting every stall twice before making a decision on what to eat.

 

“Ok, so the crispy ramen burger? Followed by spicy chicken tacos and then pulled pork mac and cheese? Definitely?” She only let go of the warmth of his arm to tick each item of food off on her fingers.

 

“If you can put that all away I’ll be impressed.”

 

Sandor had done nothing to help make the decision of what to eat any easier. Sansa was overwhelmed with the choice on offer and didn’t want to miss out on anything, questioning Sandor on what he wanted in order to help her make the choice, but she would have gotten more help from a brick wall.

 

After they had walked stall to stall one final time, collecting the carefully curated menu Sansa had put together for them, Sandor was loaded up with their spoils while Sansa scouted the perfect spot for them to sit and eat.

 

It was only once the distraction of food was temporarily removed that she really took in the surroundings. The large park was an abundance of lush green grass and foliage, ancient trees bending over, their leaves blending with the bright green of newer bushes. Rustic wooden picnic benches were dotted around but none were free. Someone had laid out blankets and cushions in the grass, creating cosy patches for couples and groups to sit on the grass and eat or watch the world go by.

 

“Here!” Sansa finally found the perfect place; a red and gold blanket, patterned in the Essosi style, with matching plump cushions laid out under a tree. Half in the shade and half in the sun, the space was partially hidden from others in the park by the tree’s low hanging branching, creating a leafy curtain of privacy.

 

They sat and Sansa arranged the food, instructing Sandor on what order he should eat to get the best flavour versus texture pay off. Looking at her with mischief sparkling in his eye, Sandor slowly, deliberately reached for the taco and took an enormous bite, gobbling down more than half of it.

 

Sansa’s mouth fell open. “But..the taco should be second.” Was all she could think to say, as she watched him chew his food in a rather beastly fashion. Before he’d even finished his mouthful, Sandor loaded up the plastic spoon that came with the mac and cheese and shovelled that into his mouth too.

 

If she didn’t so desperately want to eat it herself, Sansa would have thrown her own mac and cheese at him. He was ruining it! Instead she pushed his shoulder, causing him to grin, wide and messy.

 

“Ew, you ogre.” She teased, lifting her burger and taking a delicate, ladylike bite from it.

 

“Mmm, oh my god, Sandor this tastes amazing! You really should have tried it first.” Sansa moaned, too impressed by the combination of spice and smoke and sweetness and crunch that was bursting over her tastebuds to be embarrassed at the noises she was making.

 

When she opened her eyes and looked up at Sandor he had stopped chewing, his eyes rapt on her face, somehow darker than usual. A strange expression played across his face. She watched as he blinked and his gaze fell to her collar bone for a second, before suddenly sweeping off her entirely and studying the remaining food spread out on the blanket. He looked away too quickly to see Sansa shiver, as if his gaze alone was keeping her warm and the abrupt departure of it left her feeling cool, bereft.

 

She swallowed, aware that something had somehow just happened but was unaware of what it was. “You should really try it.” She spoke quietly, almost a whisper in their secluded section of the park.

 

***

 

After stuffing themselves full, Sandor sprawled out on the Essosi cushions, complaining about how scratchy the fabric was, while Sansa rolled around on the blanket, complaining about how full she was. Eventually she settled herself in a semi comfortable position, her head dangerously close to resting on Sandor’s thigh.

 

Unconsciously she wriggled herself closer to the warmth radiating from him. “I’m so content I could just fall asleep right here.”

 

And she could. She felt like she was glowing from the inside like those ready-brek kids from the TV advert. Today was just what she had needed to de-stress from work. She hummed in pleasure and reached behind her, searching Sandor’s hand. She found it and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you. I needed this today.”

 

 

An hour or so later, once they both felt comfortable to move again,

 

 

“Ohmigod!” Sandor stopped sharply, turning at Sansa’s shriek. “It’s really here!”

 

Sandor’s eyes crinkled in confusion, his gaze sweeping around to find the source of Sansa’s awe. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary he double checked, but still came up blank.

 

“What’s here?”

 

“Hot Pie. Donnoli’s!” Her voice trailed off as she raced off to join the longest queue Sandor had seen all day. Huffing a sigh, he followed her.

 

“Forty seven fucking minutes you’ve made me stand here with you.”

 

“Quit your whinging. We’re next. Besides, I didn’t make you wait. You could...go sit down or try some of that hipster home brewed beer - don’t start making excuses, I saw you eyeing that up.”

 

Finally, eventually, the person in front paid for their purchases and left the queue - fifty three fucking minutes later, according to Sandor - to reveal the glorious spread of patisserie, all hand made by the infamous Hot Pie. Her eyes swept the stall; dainty pastel coloured macaroons, gold leaf topped cupcakes, fairy sized Victoria sponges, the biggest selection of cookies she’d ever seen. And the star of the show-

 

Sansa’s face fell. Where were they?

 

Her eyes landed on a sign the cashier was pinning up:

 

Donnoli’s - Sold out!

 

She heard a whimper, only to realise it had come from her. Not only had she been looking forward to Hot Pie’s Donnoli all day, she’d been coveting it online for months; the most exclusive pastry in Westeros, if not the whole planet - Hot Pie himself only baked 12 batches each day, changed the flavour monthly and only sold them in person from his one bakery here in Maidenpool. To be so close and still unable to try the legendary flaky, crunchy pastry was devastating for her.

 

“You’re sold out of Donnoli’s?” She asked the cashier, just to be sure.

 

“‘Fraud so!” The girl gave her a cheerful smile. “I can recommend the crime brûlée doughnut though, it is to die for.”

 

“You don’t even have a little Donnoli left? Maybe one that fell on the floor that you had to put in the bin? Or one that cracked a bit so it doesn’t look sellable?”

 

Sandor snorted behind her, but she ignored him.

 

“Sorry, doll. We really do recommend getting here as early as possible to get the best chance of having a Donnoli. Hot Pie only bakes-“

 

“Yeah, Yeah, I know. Only twelve batches a day. I guess the cookies and creme brulè doughnuts will be good too.” She told the sales assistant, but her voice was flat even to her own ears.

 

“Wait here.” Sandor growled, and Sansa turned just in time to see him head back into the crowd.

 

With a shrug she handed the cash over to the sales assistant and took her bag of sugary treats, stepping aside, but no so far that Sandor wouldn’t be able to find her. Unable to resist, despite still being full from their lunch, Sansa broke off half a pistachio cookie and started to nibble on it.

 

When Sandor returned he was holding something. Whatever it was, was obscured by his giant hands. As he got closer he held it out to her like in the manner of someone making a satantic sacrifice. When he was close enough that she could make out what the small, glossy disc was.

 

“Where did you get that?” Sansa’s voice was sharp.

 

“Does it matter?” His hand was still outstretched, palm cradling the precious pastry.

 

Sansa considered for a moment, before breaking into a huge smile and snatching the Donnoli from his hand. She held it up, looking at it in wonder.

 

“No.” She managed to tear her eyes from the pastry to meet his, and a strange shiver ran down her spine. Had he been another man, she might have kissed him as a thank you. Instead she held the pastry to his lips, offering him a bite.

 

“A small bite.” She warned, watching his perfectly straight teeth sink into the soft pastry with a satisfying crunch. She nearly died with jealousy, but she couldn’t say if she was jealous of the pastry or of Sandor.


	7. 7

 

From: Human Resources

To: Stark, Sansa

Subject: Dress Code

 

Hi Sweetie

 

Super cute dress you’ve got on today - I simply adore that Peter Pan collar. And that emerald colour, urgh, it just sets your hair off perfectly.

 

The thing is though, it is a teeny weeny bit short. I know it’s probably not meant to be, but sweetie, your legs are just _endless_ and they make everything look shorter than it really is.

 

I’m not going to write you up this time (you know how much I hate awkward conversations!) but just be aware of it for the future. Don’t want anyone else complaining!

 

XOXO

 

Margaery Tyrell | HR Rep - Employee Relations | Lannister Enterprises

 

  * \- - - -



 

From: Stark, Sansa

To: Human Resources

Subject: Re: Dress Code

 

Marg, has someone complained about my legs?

 

S

 

————-

 

From: Human Resources

To: Stark, Sansa

Subject: Re: Dress Code

 

Oh no sweetie! Not your legs! Just the length of your dress.

 

I know you have a thing about your legs but please sweetie don’t go back to dressing like a septa, it’s just that grumpy old badger Petyr. And it wasn’t a bad complaint - he just said they were distracting him!

 

Honestly sweetie, anyone would be lucky to have your legs wrapped around them.

 

Just wear a longer dress tomorrow - you know I hate telling people off.

 

XOXO

 

  * \- - - -



 

From: Stark, Sansa

To: Clegane, Sandor

Subject: Car Share

 

Did you notice my dress this morning? What did you think of it?

 

  * \- - - - 



 

From: Clegane, Sandor

To: Stark, Sansa

Subject: Re: Car Share

 

Is this sexual harassment?

 

  * \- - - -



 

From: Stark, Sansa

To: Clegane, Sandor

Subject: Re: Car Share

 

I don’t know - _is_ it sexual harassment if someone makes ta complaint about your dress to HR because your legs are too distracting? :(

 

  * \- - - - 



 

From: Clegane, Sandor

To: Stark, Sansa

Subject: Re: Car Share

 

I haven’t made a complaint that you’re distracting me. Yet. If you keep emailing me about your dress I might.

 

  * \- - - -



 

From: Stark, Sansa

To: Clegane, Sandor

Subject: Re: Car Share

 

I know it’s not you, it’s that old pervert Petyr.

 

Sorry. It’s just that you’re the only other person who has seen me today that would have an objective opinion.

 

I’ll see you at 5.

 

Sansa.

 

  * \- - - - 



 

From: Clegane, Sandor

To:Baelish, Petyr

Subject: Your performance

 

Petyr

 

I’ve reviewed last quarter’s figures and based on your key performance targets your conduct has not been acceptable.

 

I’ve arranged a meeting Wednesday morning at 11.30am to discuss with you the reasons for your poor performance and actions to remedy and/or disciplinary procedures.

 

Off the record, I would suggest your keep your eyes - and hands - to yourself in the meantime.

 

Sandor Clegane | Strategic Operations Director | Lannister Enterprises

 

  * \- - - -



 

From: Clegane, Sandor

To: Stark, Sansa

Subject: Your dress

 

It’s a nice shade of green.

 

  * \- - - -



 

From: Clegane, Sandor

To: Stark, Sansa

Subject: Re: Your dress

 

And your legs are no more or no less distracting in that dress than any other outfit I have seen you in.

 

  * \- - - -




End file.
